Trouble
by divergentandproudofit
Summary: Deep inside, I couldn't help but be intrigued. I knew that he was trouble. I was fully aware that he would only break my heart into minuscule pieces. Be he was so intense, so deep, that I couldn't escape his magnetic pull.Was this boy really as bad as they said? I was about to find out. Modern day AU
1. Chapter 1

**This story is rated T for language and minor adult themes. I will own The Hunger Games when Haymitch stays sober for more than a week.**

* * *

_I'd heard_

_That you were looking for prey_

_Hungry for a different girl everyday_

_But you were so sly in coming in_

_I wouldn't fight, I let you win._

- **Trouble by Bonnie McKee**

* * *

_They all told me to stay away from him- to stay far, far away, because he was only a player out to break my heart. And at first, I believed them, because he was completely unrecognizable to me now. At first I played the good little girl and steered clear. But deep inside, I couldn't help but be intrigued. Was this boy really as bad as they said? I still have the memories of a time when he wasn't..._

_I knew that he was trouble. I was fully aware that he would only break my heart into minuscule pieces. Be he was always so intense, so deep, but at the same time gorgeous and charming, that I couldn't escape his magnetic pull. I fell too far, too hard, and now here I am._

_I lean back onto my pillows, close my eyes tight, and remember..._

* * *

"So, Clove." My best friend Olive Twist slams her locker shut, tossing her gorgeous red hair and staring at me with dark, serious green eyes. "Are you busy this weekend?"

I shake my head and grin at her, my hand closing around the silver locket I wear always, my only memento of the grandmother I lost years ago. "You mean other than locking myself in my room and writing until my eyes bleed or my hands crap out, whichever comes first?"

Olive laughs and pushes up the sleeves of her dark green sweater dress, setting her hands on her hips. I don't know how she manages to look stunning without really making much of an effort. Fashion's never really been my thing, though, and it comes more easily to Olive than it does to me. "Girl, you need to get a _life."_

It's our own private joke, and I start to laugh with her, but then I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest as I look over her shoulder to the end of the hallway, where _he_ stands with his friends. He is staring straight at me, leaning against the lockers. A smirk is clearly etched upon his handsome face and a slight lift to his blonde eyebrows. _Oh shit oh shit why is he staring at me, why can't I breathe and why is my heart beating louder than a rim shot on a snare drum..._

Olive follows my gaze, elbowing me hard in the ribs when she catches on. "Cato Tyler is staring at you?" she whispers, tugging at my arm, attempting to pull me away. "That's not good. That boy is nothing but trouble. And for God's sake, stop staring like an idiot!"

"I know he's no good. You've been telling me that since, what, sixth grade? When we first met and we heard that rumor about him and Cashmere?" I turn away, but both my mind and my heart are racing, going a thousand miles an hour. Why was he looking at me? Why does he get to me so easily?

Why can't I forget what he used to be to me, and now, is he really as bad as they all say?

I shake my head and fling that rebellious thought to the wind, telling myself that it's nothing. Cato is dangerous; the forbidden fruit on the tree. I can't change what happened between us, and I don't want him.

He's my total opposite, anyway. _He's_ handsome, popular, confident, arrogant- everything I'm not. I'm the shy, quiet girl in the corner, with my nose always buried in a book or journal. And although Olive and my other friends assure me I'm pretty and have coaxed me out of my shell, just a teeny bit, I'm mostly invisible. I've never been the most outgoing person in the world anyway. In fact, all through elementary school, I only had one friend...

So why does Cato make me so fucking nervous? He is just another person.

I look back over my shoulder just long enough to catch a glimpse of those laughing blue eyes yet again. He's still staring at me. Shit.

I close my eyes, and for a moment I see those same blue eyes and a wide, white smile, and feel an arm around my shoulder. I hear an echo of laughter._ Maybe next time, Clover..._

I open my eyes and release the old, long buried memory, letting it float away and disintegrate into dandelion seeds in a breeze.

Outwardly I am calm, letting nothing slip past my defenses long enough to let Olive and Katniss and Johanna and Annie see. But inside, my heart is a battle field, and I'm waging war against myself.

* * *

_I didn't know just how close to the edge I was, then. Didn't recognize the signs. If I had, I might have been able to stop myself from falling- before it was too late._

* * *

**Please review, I would love your feedback and ideas on this. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**This story is rated T for language and minor adult themes. Again, my name is not Suzanne Collins and I will own THG when Effie is late to the Reaping.**

_I think that's when it all began. It was only an innocent curiosity at first, but it quickly changed into something deeper, more powerful, the little stream turned into a raging river. I'm still not sure if it is-_ was_ - love so much as a raging desire. I'm not even sure if they aren't the same thing..._.

* * *

Johanna groans and smacks a hand to her forehead. "Shit," she declares loudly, running a hand through her short, spiky black hair and shoving a chocolate chip cookie in her mouth. "I have an appointment with Dr. Asshole after school today."

'Dr. Asshole' is Johanna's nickname for the therapist her father, a wealthy lawyer, makes her see. His real name is Dr. Aurelius. When her dad divorced her mom, Johanna went through a rebellious, emotional period and was, in truth, kind of hard to be around. She's better now, but she can still be a major bitch sometimes.

"That sucks," Katniss says, giving Jo a sympathetic hug. "When is your dad going to realize that the therapist is only trying to get his money?"

Johanna snorts, grabbing a second cookie. "Like he even cares. He has so much shit he's not sure what to do with it all." She's always been scornful of her family's wealth, like she doesn't know how lucky she is not to have to worry about money. My family isn't exactly poor, but we're not well off, either. My mother is always stressed out about money, which makes her angry. It's best to avoid her when she's angry.

Annie glances up from the book she's been reading just long enough to say, "oh, don't look now, but Cato's staring at our table."

I whip around with a gasp, barely even hearing Johanna's sarcastic, "yeah, right."

Annie's wrong, though. It's not us he's looking at. It's me.

Those clear blue eyes seem to see right through me, making note of the crazy thoughts running through my head. Just for a moment, I wonder what it would be like to have Cato's muscular arms wrapped around me.

I narrow my eyes at him as if this is his fault. I must be coming down with something, because the normal Clove would never dare think those thoughts, thoughts of warmth and whispers and quiet places.

One of the busty platinum blondes surrounding him, Glimmer I think her name is, places a hand on his arm and leans in to whisper something in his ear, pressing her boobs 'innocently' against him. He looks away from me, but not before he raises his eyebrows and gives me a slow, languid smile.

Shit.

I turn around to look back at my friends, who are staring at me as if I'd just turned into a neon green monkey, but I still can't breathe. _ Those eyes, I swear, they are going to be the death of me..._

"What _exactly_ is going on here?" Johanna demands of me, twisting her spiked black bracelet around her wrist and raising her eyebrows.

"Cato was staring at me," I mutter. Lame excuse. Something more is going on here, and it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

"No shit, Sherlock. Anything else? Are you perhaps developing a little _crush?"_

Leave it to Jo. Always gets straight to the point. "No!" I shout, hoping they can't tell I'm starting to doubt that. "Are you fucking kidding me? CATO?"

"All right, then," Johanna says a little too sweetly. She's still suspicious, I can tell, although my other friends seem to be convinced. "If you're sure. I wouldn't keep looking over your shoulder if I were you, though. The only person who has a reason to be looking over there is Annie."

Annie turns a vivid shade of pink, mutters something about checking the time, and returns to her book, although I can see her sneaking little glances upward every so often. She's had a crush on Finnick Odair, Cato's best friend, for ages, and it's not that hard to tell that he likes her, too, and although Annie denies it, I suspect that they may have already started going out.

"Are you sure something's not wrong?" Olive asks me, giving me a cookie and a concerned glance. "You've been acting really weird."

Shit. I must not be as calm outwardly as I thought I was, if they've all picked up on it. Although that isn't surprising. I feel like shit and I'm overcome with a strange kind of nausea, like nothing I've ever experienced before.

"I'm fine," I say a little too enthusiastically. "It's just a new story I'm writing. Really it's nothing."

My mind is two thousand light years away, and a certain shade of sea blue is permanently branded in my head, right behind my eyes...

**is she in love, or is she in love? If I get at least five reviews, I'll post another chapter tomorrow. Starting... now!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I will own The Hunger Games when President Snow falls in love with President Coin.**

**A special thanks to my very own Olive, TributeAndProud, who has dealt with my obsession(s), mood swings, craziness, and random awkward smutty comments for the past three years or so. (How _bout_ them tips? ;) )**

* * *

_Maybe, if I hadn't been so desperate to prove everyone wrong, this wouldn't have happened. Everyone just automatically assumed that the shy little wall flower didn't have a chance with the most popular guy in the school. It sparked a small flame, a quiet rebellious fire inside of me. I wanted to show them I was more than what they thought._

* * *

When I get home, I slam the door to my bedroom and flop down on my bed, completely exhausted. School takes a lot out of me- I never know how to respond to people and the teachers aren't sure what to do with me because I'm so bad at remembering to hand in assignments- and today was more confusing than most.

Why was _Cato Tyler,_ of all the boys in the whole stupid school, staring at me?

I pull my journal out from under my pillow and open to the next blank page, but I realize I have no idea where to start. The words that usually come so easily to me have been silenced. I need to get answers before I can even begin to put it down on paper.

With a sigh, I tug my math book out of my backpack and start my homework, but all the words, numbers, and equations jumble together to form crazy, illegible words. I can't focus.

Can't focus on anything, that is, but the shade and depth of those blue eyes.

"Shit!" I scream at the wall, overcome with anger. I slam my algebra book to the ground, cursing again as all the papers I've shoved in between the pages- a month's worth of notes- fly out and flutter to the ground mournfully, like so many autumn leaves caught in a breeze. I kick at the book and bury my face in my hands. "Why? Why me?" I moan.

I wish I could wake up again this morning and re-write the whole day, starting with NOT noticing Cato watching me in the hallway. I don't know what is wrong with me. Two glances- just _two-_ from a boy I've been repeatedly warned away from, and now I'm acting like it's the end of the world. I know I'm overreacting, and that a girl like me means less than nothing to a boy like Cato, but I can't help it. I need to talk to someone about this.

With an exaggerated sigh, I reach for my phone and punch in Olive's number. I've been best friends with her since we met in sixth grade, and we have no secrets from each other, Olive and I. She is my confidante, practically my sister. Without he'd, I'd probably be screaming my head off in a mental ward right now.

She picks up on the first ring, shouting in order to be heard above the backlog of noise around her. "Hey, Clover. What's up?"

"First off, my name is not Clover, and second, I kind of-"

"Yo, Foxface!" someone yells in the background, and Olive mutters a curse. "Hold on a sec."

"I'm on the phone, Evan! Go get lost, and take your little minions with you. I'm not your babysitter. And for the last time, MY NAME IS NOT FOX FACE!"

I start to laugh as she picks up the phone again and moves to a quieter place. "Asshole," she says. "Five of his friends followed him home after school, and they're wrecking the house. If he weren't my brother I swear to God I would have drowned him already."

"I know how it is," I say sympathetically. I have three little sisters- Carly, Celia, and Christine- who make my life Hell.

"So what did you want to talk to me about? Or are you calling me just for the heck of it?"

I sigh. "It's Cato." I'm not looking forward to explaining this, plus I'm already feeling the effects of that weird bout of nausea I always have when his name comes up in conversations.

"What do you mean, it's Cato?" she demands, on edge.

"Well, he's been staring at me all day-"

"No _shit,_ Sherlock," Olive says, borrowing one of Johanna's favorite expressions.

"-and for some reason it's driving me crazy. I have no idea what all this shit is about."

Olive is silent for so long I'm starting to think she hung up on me. Finally, she speaks.

"Clove," she says, slowly and carefully. I almost don't want to hear what she's about to say. It's not going to be good, I can tell from the tone of her voice. "Don't get mad at me for not telling you this before."

"I won't," I say. "I think."

"I see him staring at you a lot, and whispering with his friends. I think that you might be his next target."

"And that's bad?"

"Of course, it's bad! What the fuck is with you today? This is Cato Tyler we're talking about."

She thinks that's all he is, a player. And maybe now that's true. But she doesn't know what I do. Cato wasn't always the player, the bad boy with a new girl every day.

Years ago, so long ago I'd almost forgotten about it, he was my first and, back then, my only friend.

**Ooooh... what exactly is behind Cato's bad boy image?**

**Again, I will update when I get five reviews for this chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**THE CARDINALS MADE THE WORLD SERIES so here's an extra long chapter- although it's kind of bittersweet and almost sad.**

**I will own The Hunger Games when Katniss stops hunting and becomes a vegetarian.**

* * *

_But you didn't have to cut me off  
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing  
And I don't even need your love  
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough_

**Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye**

* * *

_Before, he wasn't the cocky, arrogant heartthrob that everyone else adored. Back then, he was my only friend, which pretty much meant I was his only friend. I was openly despised by Glimmer, and anyone Glimmer hated, so did everyone else. I miss the days of sunshine and laughter and secrets kept, so different from the sleepless nights I suffer through now..._

* * *

"_Tag, you're it. Bet you can't catch me,_ Cate."_ The blond boy scowls at the nickname and full out runs at the dark haired girl, tackling her and shoving her to the ground._

_"Sorry, Clover. Too slow. Maybe next time."_

_She rolls her eyes and grins at him. He's the only one who can get away with calling her that. They seem so happy, shouting and laughing as they wrestle._

_Unfortunately, the pretty little blonde girl with a bright pink dress and ribbons in her hair has to ruin the moment._

_"Oh, look, it's Cato and Clover. How sweet."_

_The boy shrugs and pretends to look away, but the dark haired girl catches him looking at the blonde out of the corner of his eye._

_"Shut up,_ Glitter._ Leave us alone. We never did anything to you." the dark haired girl says angrily, staring at the other with stormy gray eyes._

_The blonde girl starts to make kissy noises, and the dark haired girl can't help herself. She punches the blonde one in the nose._

_Later, at the principal's office, she can't explain why she did it. Yes, she was provoked. But what she doesn't say, and never will, is that she felt an intrusion when the blond boy looked at the other girl. She doesn't like to share._

I wake up from the memory-dream with tears in my eyes. I might as well admit it. I miss the old Cato, the one who ruffled my hair and called me Clover, the guy who taught me how to throw a football and play a scale on a guitar.

That's why I don't like it when Olive calls me Clover- the nickname belongs to him and him alone. I had buried theses memories deep, in places where I was sure they couldn't resurface and taunt me again, but I must have been wrong.

And of all the things I've told Olive over the years, I've never told her about me and Cato. It's stupid, I know, but I wanted to keep the memories of him all to myself. I'm not quite sure that she'd believe me, anyway. Cato's so different now- and so is everyone else. I guess we kind of grew apart in the later years, because in fourth grade he met Marvel and Finnick and in fifth grade I met Katniss. Eventually the bond that had held is together for so long broke, and we barely even talked in middle school. But until it happened, I never imagined Cato hanging with Glimmer's gang.

I've had other guy friends- Peeta Mellark and Gale Hawethorne are in my same social group, but it's never been quite the same.

Now here we are. He's the star player on the football team, the most popular and sought after guy in the entire high school, and I'm the quiet, shy wall flower watching from a distance.

His football number is 2.

Not that I would ever admit it to my friends, but I still watch him sometimes, looking in vain for traces the laughing blue eyed boy who promised he'd protect me from Glimmer forever, although until very recently I never noticed him watching me. I think they're dating now, further proof that Cato's slipped away forever.

I don't know why this bothers me so much. We have different lives, different futures. I had almost forgotten about the boy with the sea blue eyes.

Now, though- if Olive is right and he really does stare at me, I don't know how long I can go before we cross paths again.

I'm just glad that today's a Saturday, because I don't want to do anything but stay in bed and write all day. Or cry until I fall asleep again. And maybe, if I feel up to it, walk down to the gas station and buy myself a soda.

And that's just what I'm doing when my phone rings. Olive and Annie, it seems, have other plans for me.

"Enough fucking around. Get your sorry ass over here NOW. We're going to the park."

I sigh inwardly. "Alright, fine. Just let me put on some clothes and get ready," I say, cradling the phone in between my shoulder and neck and frantically dragging a brush through my dark tangled hair.

"See you soon," she says, and the phone dies with a click.

I throw on some dark wash jeans and a plain black T-shirt, putting my hair in a sloppy bun. I shove my phone in my pocket and grab my keys off the top of my desk. Some papers flutter to the ground in the breeze created by my frantic movements, and I gasp for air, feeling as though I just had the wind knocked out of me.

Below the cluttered mess of paper that is my desk top, a picture peeks out, curled at the edges and slightly faded. In it, a much younger version of me stands next to Cato. His arm is around my shoulders and I'm laughing like crazy. If I remember correctly, it was taken on the last day of third grade, just before he started t slip away.

I look happy. Happier then I ever am nowadays.

I shake my head and turn away, thumping down the stairs and sprinting past my parents on the way out the door. "I'm going to Olive's house, we were planning on going to the park bye!"

Before they can reel off a list of chores I need to do before I earn the 'privilege' to be with my friends, I leave.

I practically fly down the pavement, loving the free feeling of running loose, the wind teasing wisps of hair out of my bun to fly around my face. I press on faster, and harder, like if I run fast enough I can escape all the bad memories and the things weighing me down.

I am happy; I am free.

By the time I get to Olive's house, I'm out of breath and desperately in need of a drink of water. She gives me a glass of water, and I take slow, careful sips as we wait for Annie to arrive.

"So what's the plan?" I ask, setting the water down on her kitchen counter.

"We were just going to walk around town for a bit. Although personally I think it's because Annie's hoping to 'run into' Finnick."

I giggle and slap her arm, just as Annie walks through the door.

"Ready, guys?" she says, tossing a package of Skittles at each of us. I catch it with one hand and shove it in my pocket.

"Let's go."

We start out the door, laughing and talking about people at school and our favorite books.

"So apparently Glimmer's two timing on Cato," Annie says, looking over her shoulder to make sure nobody's behind us.

"Oh, really?" Olive tosses her sleek red hair over her shoulder and arches an eyebrow. "Well, I must say I'm not surprised. I think Cato might be two timing on Glimmer as well. I'm pretty sure that they're just friends with benefits."

I look down at the ground. My friends talking about Cato like this always makes me kind of uncomfortable.

"Clover? What's wrong?"

I take a deep breath and force my head upwards. "Don't call me that. I kind of need to tell you guys something."

"What is it?" Annie says, leaning closer.

"I... back in elementary school, Cato and I were really, really close. We were kind of each other's only friends. That's why I always get weird whenever we start talking about Cato. And that's why I don't like it when you call me Clover- that was his nickname for me."

"He broke your heart, didn't he?" Annie pushes in. "That's why you don't talk anymore. Right?"

I shake my head. "It's not like that. We were kids. We never dated. We just sort of grew apart. And he wasn't always such a player."

"Fuck. I just... wow. I never would have expected that." Olive shakes her head. "Did you ever like him like that?"

I have to think about it for a moment. I've never really had a crush before, so I don't have much to go on, but I realize that maybe I did like Cato. When we started to bond more with our other classmates, I got territorial when I saw him talking with other girls. Deep within, I always thought that he would be my Cato for ever. "Now that I think of it, yes," I say quietly.

Olive grins cheekily and raises her eyebrows at me. "Well shit. So that's why you turn bright red whenever he looks at you. You still like him, don't you."

It's not a question, but my silence is answer enough.

"Cato and Clove, sitting in a tree-"

"Hey, they're _Clato!"_ Olive butts in with a giggle.

"Shut up, you two!" I say, annoyed." He could be right around the-"

Well, hell. Speak of the devil. As we turn the corner to walk past the playing field at the park, we see a bunch of guys from our class playing a shirts vs. skins game of football, with a couple girls on the sidelines watching.

Including Cato.

His muscles twist and flex as he tackles Marvel and grabs the ball, and for a moment I think I'm dreaming. For the second time today I feel as if the wind's been knocked out of me, and I can't stop staring at him.

I just hope nobody heard my crazy friends.

"Let's watch them," I suggest." Sit on the bleachers, or something."

"We can't," Annie says, a horrified look on her face. _"Glimmer's_ up there."

"So?" I roll my eyes. " We can kick that bitch's ass any day. And Gale and Peeta are playing too. It's not a crime to watch."

"True that," Olive says. "Also, don't you want to see Finnick with his shirt off?"

Annie grins. "Or maybe it's just that you want to see _Thresh_ with _his_ shirt off."

Olive has had a crush on Thresh since eighth grade, and it's been a constant source of teasing between us. She grins devilishly as we make our way up to the top row of the bleachers, earning frosty glares from Glimmer and her friend Cashmere.

"Don't I know it. Katniss is going to be sorry she missed seeing Peeta shirtless."

Just before we sit down, Cato glances upward and catches sight of us. The cocky, arrogant grin makes a reappearance as he tackles yet another unlucky guy, obviously showing off. I roll my eyes, but in his I see just a hint of Clover's Cato, back from the dead.

**This chapter took longer for me to write, partly because the dialog was a bit tricky but also because it brought back memories of my own 'guy friend'... hope you enjoyed!**

**Five reviews and I'll post another one. You know what to do. And if I get enough, I'll put a little Clato 'surprise' in the next chapter...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here comes the special 'Clato' surprise I promised you all! This is probably my last update for a while, I am participating in National Novel Writing Month, I have to write 30k words in 30 days, and that doesn't leave much time for fanfiction.**

**I will own The Hunger Games when Gale gets trapped in his own snare :)**

* * *

_I know you told me I should stay away_

_I know you said he's just a dog astray_

_He is a bad boy with a tainted heart_

_And even I know this ain't smart_

... _And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical_

**Criminal by Britney Spears**

* * *

_When I saw him that day in the park, I was already almost in over my head. I was falling for Cato Tyler, no less. And not only was he a player, he already had a girlfriend- Glimmer Spade, the gorgeous blonde model and total bitch. But love isn't a rational thing. He was totally out of reach- and that only made me want him more._

* * *

_Did he really just look at me? Is the old Cato making a reappearance?_ These are the thoughts that chase each other through my head as I watch the game, barely paying attention to Olive and Annie's whispered conversation about which guy has the best abs.

I'm intensely focused on the way Cato's muscles ripple when he moves, and the way he pushes his sweaty hair out of his face. How did I not see it sooner?

I want him to be mine; I need him to be mine.

It's amazing how much your perception changes with one realization; colors seem brighter, music is sweeter, and everything sings Cato's name. He looks up at me every so often, and I shiver deliciously when he does. On this warm September day, nothing can go wrong.

Except for Glimmer, that is. She shoots down the bench and gives me a once over, wrinkling her nose.

"Ugh. Where'd you get those jeans? The salvation army?"

"Goodwill, actually. Why, do they look familiar?"

Olive cracks up, and Glimmer and Cashmere glare at the three of us. Annie 'innocently' scratches her forehead with her middle finger.

"Bitches," Cashmere mutters.

In the silence between us, I realize that the football game is over, and Cato is standing at the bottom of the bleachers, leaning against the metal railing.

"C'mon, guys," I say. "Let's go."

I don't know who does it, but when I'm almost to the bottom, either Cashmere or Glimmer pushes me and sends me flying into the dirt. My notebook and papers spill all over the ground. I mutter a curse and dust myself off.

"Ohmygod, I am SO SORRY!" Glimmer squeals, obviously lying. "I didn't mean to do that. Are you okay?"

"Here." I here a deep voice positioned above where I sit on the ground, and someone offers me a hand. I take it, pulling myself up.

Of course, it _would_ be Cato.

"Let me help you." He bends to gather my things, and I join him, out fingers brushing mine as he hands me my papers.

"Thanks," I say, my cheeks warm.

He looks at me for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Come _on,_ Cato. Let's go," Glimmer whines, obviously displeased.

Cato pulls his shirt over his head and laces his fingers with Glimmer's. "Nice seeing you, Clover," he calls over his shoulder.

I don't believe it. He called me Clover.

I watch them until I can no longer see them, tears in my eyes and confusion in my heart.


End file.
